


Contact

by Stu (stunudo)



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spencer Reid Drunk, Spencer Reid Sex, Spencer Reid smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 17:05:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14193612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stunudo/pseuds/Stu
Summary: A night out for Penelope's birthday has you admitting how you feel about your coworker, the esteemed Spencer Reid.





	Contact

Surviving a night out AFTER a Rossi dinner party was something you didn’t think you would complete within your first year as a member of the BAU. But tonight was special, you had closed your tenth case in a row AND it was Penelope’s birthday. After dinner festivities were not only expected; they were encouraged.

“Please be safe, guys. Remember Uber is always available.” Hotch explained.

“That’s right, kids, because Uncle Dave is not your designated driver. I fed you, now get out of my house.” Rossi slowly shuffled you all off of his patio and back through his lavish estate.

Derek and Spencer were cracking up over something. Penelope was leaning on you as you all piled into Derek’s truck.

“Savannah’s on call tonight, isn’t she? She would dance with us, wouldn’t she Y/N?” Penelope moaned.

“I am sure she would, IF I had met her yet, Morgan.” You teased, flicking the back of the sober driver’s head.

“Oh, she is the best. Like, she is model pretty and saves FREAKING lives, Y/N. You would love her.” Penelope gushed.

“Yeah, yeah, ladies. Cool your woman crushes on my girl.” Derek acknowledged, pulling out of the gated community Rossi lived in.

“Penny, where did you want to go? A regular club, something themed?” You asked lazily, trying to focus between your blonde friend and your phone screen.

“Anywhere with birthday specials, Mama will not be spending a lot guys.”

“I don’t think anyone would let you Garcia, besides Rossi has us covered.” Spencer finally piped up, flashing a stack of twenties from everyone’s favorite best selling author.

“Are we sure he isn’t looking for wife number 4, because I could use me a bank roll like that!” You teased. Everyone was quiet and the air in the vehicle got awkward. “I am kidding guys!! He is older than my actual father, not my thing.”

“What is your ‘thing’ if you don’t mind me asking? I haven’t seen you get worked up over anyone yet, Agent Y/L/N.” Derek teased.

You finished typing a text to your roommate before realizing everyone was waiting for you to answer. “Sorry, what?”

Derek and Penelope burst into explosive laughter, Spencer joined in gently. “No, I’m serious! What did you say?”

“Do you have a type?” Morgan enunciated each word as if you were a non-native English speaker.

“I am not going to tell you guys. You’re awful. I’ll never live it down.”

“I like muscular guys with…” Penelope started.

“We know.” You and Spencer cut her off in unison.  
____________________________________________________________  
Finding a dance floor that was anyway navigable on a Thursday night was too easy. No one was out, there was a group of middle aged people who were filling the seats, all overflow from the class reunion next door. Derek slipped the DJ some of the Rossi fund and requested ‘something to bump and grind to’.

“Derek Morgan, you’re a taken man!” You teased.

“That I am, but my Baby Girl loves to dance, gotta let her have a happy birthday!” Derek grinned at you. You shook your head. You didn’t quite get their friendship, but you knew Derek was a loyal guy. You loved to dance and also being from Chicago; you trusted Derek’s musical taste. Even if he was a little old, but just a little.

“Penelope, darling, are you ever going to tell me your age?” You yelled over the bass pounding through the bar.

“Are you ever going to tell me your type?” Penelope smirked at you with devilish eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. You face palmed before shrugging slightly. “Oh, this is going to be good!”

“Maybe after the next round… or two!” You tried not to look over at Spencer perched next to Derek on a bar stool.  
________________________________________________________  
The last case had been a week long, somber train-wreck. You danced away the tension and drank away the images. Derek was still at the bar with Reid, chatting casually. Reid had forgotten his razor apparently, because he had a few days worth of stubble coming in. It filled out his face nicely, aging him to somewhere closer to his true age.

You ran to the bar for a swig of water, smiling generously at your teammates. “Hey, Y/N, how’s it going?” Morgan’s smooth voice thick with mischief.

“Good” You sing-songed back. “Are you guys going to dance or hold up the bar all night?”

“Oh, I’ll dance, if Pretty Ricky gets out there.” Morgan upped the ante.

“Morgan, c’mon, you know I can’t dance.” Spencer slunk into his seat.

“It’s a good thing we don’t expect you to! Plus!” You flagged the bartender over and whispered in her ear, eyes pinned on a flustered genius the entire exchange. “Plus, we have liquid courage for you, good doctor.”

You handed Spencer the shot of tequila while Morgan hooted beside you. Spencer started explaining about the worms in the bottom of the liquor bottles but you just shook your head. “Lick it, Slam it, Suck It, Spencerrrr.” You demonstrated the process. “And don’t give me a lecture on germs, the alcohol will kill them.” You grabbed his hand and licked it for him, shaking the fine grains of salt on to your saliva.

Reid rolled his eyes as his defenses were foiled. He took a deep breath, lapped up the salt you had poured on to his thumb joint, slurped down the alcohol with hollowed cheeks and tried to bite down on the lime, dropping it instead. Penelope, Morgan and you cheered as Spencer shivered in disgust.

“Very good, very good. Now, we dance!” Penelope put on her most Russian sounding accent. Each of you dragged a hand of Spencer’s out on to the dance floor. Fortuitously, the infectious bass of Ludacris came through the speakers. “Uh, remix, yeah, Uh, remix!”

You looked at Penelope and started rapping along with the raunchy lyrics. She was fanning herself at how crazy you were flowing. The alcohol was very supportive of your endeavors. You rolled your hips on to Garcia and mumbled the chorus. Penelope led the reluctant Spencer into your little grinding circle, the dim lights of the club obscured his blushing face. Now obvious by his scrunched lips and refusal to make eye contact with you.

You rolled your hips backwards, brushing ever so slightly on to your lanky colleague. He hopped away from you and into an undulating Garcia. Spencer stammered in surprise and you caught him, dragging his hands to your waist and holding them in place so he could feel the rhythm through your body. He swayed from side to side trying to move along with you. Inspiration struck and you spun, leaning your body against his. His tall form allowing the small of your back to nestle just below his belt.

You kept the movements simple, gently rocking your hips back and forth, side to side, your arms alternated from snapping to stroking Spencer’s neck to pinning his hands on your hips. You refused to look Morgan or Garcia in the face, instead you just enjoyed the song, despite your partner not actively participating. Though you knew he was enjoying himself.  
_________________________________________________________  
“Alright, Y/N, spill.” Penelope gasped at you, as you two waited in line for the ladies room.

“Spill what, birthday girl?!” You asked obnoxiously.

“Your type, it’s Reid, isn’t it?!” Penelope gaped at you.

“Well…. yes and no.” You started, not wanting to give away all your secrets. “Yes, I have a thing for tall skinny white guys, usually they have much bigger noses though.”

“Is that a euphe-a-mis-them?” Penelope tried to get out. Laughter pierced through you, you shook your head at her drunk pronunciation and the implication.

After catching your breath, “Uh, no. The guys I usually date have a more Mediterranean look about them? That’s it, really. One of my friends told me I have a thing for guys who look like Jesus.”

“Oh, Christ, Y/N.” Penelope hit you with her clutch. “And the longish hair…Boy Wonder’s scruff and everything tonight.”

“Exactly, Pen!” You giggled.  
___________________________________________  
It was Morgan’s turn to buy the shots and he chose lemon drops, since he wasn’t drinking them. Spencer had relaxed with more alcohol and he tended to squint and smirk at you. After another round of drinks, Morgan called everyone out for a game of darts.

“Now, please stay behind the line, with your drunk ass selves. I am NOT driving anyone to the E.R. Savannah would kill me.”

“But it would be nice to see her! Can we visit? I bet it’s lonely this late anyway.” Penelope pleaded, resting her chin on Derek’s shoulder.

“Penelope, leave Savannah alone!” You called, spinning on the rotating bar stool. “We can just call her and schedule a ladies’ night.”

“Statistically women get more intoxicated when out with just other females.” Reid explained. “They feel safer and are more competitive.”

“Well, I am not getting any drunker tonight, that’s for sure!”

“Don’t back out on us now, loser has to buy the next round!” Morgan begged. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head because all of them were giving you the same puppy dog look and three sets of big brown eyes IS so cheating! You continued to play and lose miserably. Drunken aiming is not something you had perfected. During the last round, Spencer lost one of his contacts after being drunk and grinning too much, apparently. He returned to shots of tequila as the last call was announced. He had put on his glasses, which you couldn’t remember seeing him in previously.  
_______________________________________________________  
Penelope lived closest, so she was the easy drop off. You made sure she was safe inside her apartment and that she had had a good birthday.

“Y/N, sweetie, you gotta do me a favor.” Penelope sat up in earnest on her love seat. “Y/N, you gotta go get some nerd love. Please? For me? Seriously honey, you need it. We all know Reid needs it. And if I don’t get it on my birthday, then my babies should!”

You were speechless. She was asking you to get laid (by Reid no less!) as a present to her? You rolled your eyes, “Goodnight tech angel. Sweet dreams and drink plenty of water!”

Hoping back into the cab of Derek’s truck you grinned, something had conspired between the two men while you were away. “What? What did you do?”

Morgan played it cool, sober ass. Spencer tried not to laugh, but his goofy grin and squinted eyes were give-aways. “Fine! Don’t tell me. Just wait until you see my wrath.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Spencer’s apartment was the next on the route, again you followed him inside ensuring he was safe and was prepared for a massive hang over. When you turned to go, Spencer called you back in.

“Y/N? Please, don’t be angry, but Derek left.”  
________________________________________________  
You stared at the tall genius in shock as realization set in you slammed his door closed. “Of course he did!”

Spencer was rather sheepish, but was still half laughing. “Look, I am not going to pressure you here. But you are very welcome to share my bed, even if we, uh, do not re-enact that song.”

The anger was twisting inside you, your blood flowing to your cheeks. “Spencer, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think you quite heard that song.”

“Eidetic memory, Y/N.” He winked and licked his lips. Your eyebrow shot up, impressed and suddenly you were clawing at his leather jacket, pressing your mouth to his.

The frustration of being matched and then deserted by your co-workers. Added to this genius profiler offering to engage in one of the dirtiest rap songs ever made, caused you to clench your thighs. Spencer’s lips were rough on your skin, his hands roaming your body. You pushed him back and started stepping out of your clothes, not waiting to make it to his bedroom. His eyes locked on yours and he starting stripping too. He was much less graceful than you were, you hoped. But he cracked his belt as you were unbuckling your wedges, causing you to purr involuntarily.

“Oh, Y/N, just leave the heels on.” Spencer said offhandedly, as if it was doing him a favor. His scruffy face was suddenly in front of you, you stood in alarm, frozen. Spencer was on all fours in his boxers while you were still in your bra and shoes. You started playing with his hair, but tugged it just so; he knew what you wanted next. His large hands found your smooth thighs, his lips leaving a trail of whisker kisses along your hips.

Spencer rested on his knees behind you, sliding his palm over the curve of your ass, pressing at the small of your back. You grabbed your ankles and Spencer began to ‘li-li-li-lick you from your ass to your clit.’  
________________________________________________________  
Being able to watch his neck contract with his efforts was extremely satisfying, his Adam’s apple taunt against his exposed throat. He hummed into your core, palming your cheeks and tugging them further apart. His strong thumbs were parting your inner lips, granting him further access to your heat. You thrusted against his slick face, begging for more friction. You tried to free your breasts so you could rub on your swollen peaks, but Spencer batted your hands away with a soft whack.

“Just leave, it, Y/N. Don’t mess with this angle.” Spencer groaned, exasperated.

You were shocked, not only was he refusing to let you take off your bra, he had struck you! Your eyes were rolling back and suddenly his face was gone, but one of his hands held you in that strict bend. He stepped to the side to remove his boxers and clear his face of your arousal with the back of his free hand.

“Do we need protection or can I continue?”

Oh god, yes, continue, right freaking now! You couldn’t form that sentence so you just murmured, “Yesss, we’re good.”

“I have to agree with you there–” And suddenly Spencer had slammed inside of you. You called out in shock as you were drilled. Remaining in half, you reached behind you and clawed at his thighs. If he was going to be rough, he was going to get rough back. He grunted at the pain of you digging into his flesh. After gaining rhythm his right hand connected with your ass cheek and you groaned, “Yesss, atta boy, yummmm.”

Spencer paused pounding into you, listening to your affirmation. “Y/N, baby, I am going to need you to be louder.” You responded with a moan. His left hand connected with your other cheek and you squealed, clenching against his length.

“Better.”

You mewled as your orgasm approached, your blood pooling in your face and your center. You braced yourself on the back of his couch. Spencer was maintaining a deep entry, edging you so close. His large palms, ripped down your bra, freeing your aching nipples. His sure fingers tugged and tweaked them as his momentum stuttered. He exhaled, stepping back from his own climax to focus again on yours. He thrust until he could not enter you further, holding his deep penetration, his right hand found your clit while his left hand still worked your nipple. You were unraveling in Spencer Reid’s living room.

As the culmination rocketed through your being, your voice gasped through moans of Spencer’s name and ‘fuck that, uhs’. As you began to sway on your stiff legs, Spencer pulled out, guiding you back to standing. His hands found your trapezes muscles and held you still, gently working his thumbs into you.

You shivered as your climax rolled away, you leaned back reaching up for Spencer’s neck. Quickly, he spun you again, capturing your raw mouth in his. His kiss was hungry, tasting in part you and part tequila. You grabbed his shoulders and dragged yourself on to your tiptoes, then you hopped up, encircling his waist with your legs.

Drunken aiming was still not your thing, because you managed to pinch Spencer’s cock between your thigh and his pelvis, just as you locked your ankles in place. Somehow he didn’t drop you, “Fuck! Y/N, careful, geez.”

You were genuinely worried, “Oh, shit, are you okay? Spencer, I am so sorry. Is it hurt?”

He looked down at you, his dark eyes unfocused, when did he lose his glasses? His mouth puckered at your concern, he couldn’t be mister dominant all the time. “Let’s, uh, let’s go see.” Spencer walked you into his bedroom, setting you gently on the edge of the bed. Your hand trailed down his chest and his flat stomach, finding his affected dick. You inspected it for damage and Spencer laughed nervously.

“All there? Am I going to make it?” Spencer reached down and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes found his not quite line of sight and your mouth completed your assessment. As much as you wanted to, you resisted using your teeth. His cock hardened to full attention as the warmth of your mouth enveloped him. Spencer moaned your name over and over as your pace increased. Your nails found his thighs again, dragging across his skin all the way around to his tight ass. His hips met your face, you relaxed your jaw and let him fuck your throat.

His hand braced against your collar bone, his thumb making gentle circles on your tender flesh. You were uncomfortable, the alcohol was threatening to make an appearance all over Spencer’s torso. His hips shook and you began swallowing as he came, hard. He bucked and called out in a voice you hadn’t heard before, it was savage. That was jarring. The grip of his hand finally released you, and you lay back trying to stop the nausea and spinning.

“I haven’t done that in awhile, give me a sec.” You moaned, hiding your face with your forearm. Spencer was panting somewhere near your legs.

“No argument from me, I am going to need much more than a second.” Spencer plopped down beside you on the bed, dragging your arm off of your face. “Don’t hide, though, I can actually see you now.” His goofy grin was peering down at you very satisfied with himself. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully onto the bed. You lay there, shoulder to shoulder catching your breaths.

You slowly roll to peer over at Reid, eyes closed, hand laying on his stomach. He seemed peaceful, not the forceful top that was just getting you to scream louder. His facial hair accenting his pointed jaw like a poisonous flower with thorns. You slide atop him, sitting gently astride his abdomen. You finally remove your poorly situated bra. Spencer’s drunken calm exited once your breasts were revealed. His rough thumbs began kneading them, your body dampening against his skin. “Somebody doesn’t like to listen.” Spencer muttered.

“I listened! That was more than a second!” You giggled. “I just want to thank you, for giving Penelope a very rigorous birthday present.”

“Care to explain yourself? I am rarely so clueless…”

“Oh, really? You?” You leaned in and kissed his witty mouth. Realizing that even with his glasses, it was so easy kissing Reid with his little unobtrusive button nose. Yeah, he was your type, damn-it.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr summer 2017. stunudo.tumblr.com  
> Written for a smut challenge for another blog spencerdamnreid.tumblr.com  
> The prompt was for Drunk, Consensual, Rough Sex.


End file.
